The Living Years
by AmaranteReikaChan
Summary: Kankuro's father had been many things to him over the years, but never his 'dad'. It wasn't until after the Fourth Kazekage's death that he acquired the name from his eldest son. Snippets of Kankuro's changing views on his father and brother.
1. Chapter 1

**SUMMARY:** Kankuro's father had been many things to him over the years, but never his 'dad'. It wasn't until after the Fourth Kazekage's death that he acquired the name from his eldest son. As he grew older Kankuro learnt many lessons about his father and himself - some good and some bad - even if it was sometimes hard for him to admit. Snippets of Kankuro's changing views on his father and brother.

**DISCLAIMER: **Kankuro and all other characters with a name are copyright to Masashi Kishimoto and Shounen Jump. The lyrics are from the song 'The Living Years' by Mike and the Mechanics.**  
**

**Every generation blames the one before  
and all of their frustrations come beating on your door**

**

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**_As a child Kankuro would purposefully get himself into trouble just so he would be sent off to his father. It was one of the only ways he'd get to see him. __

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_

Countless times it had been done. And because of it Temari and Kankuro had grown physically unable to emotionally attach themselves to new people. They had come to learn that people only come and go, they never stick around long enough to matter. They couldn't remember how many faces they had seen coming in that nursery door, and every new face that had come had left again. They had never had the same nanny for more than two months at a time.

One of the first things that shaped them was the uncertainty. The knowledge that life could change as quickly as the wind, people were unimportant, and to be strong was to not weigh yourself down with petty attachments to those who would most definitely just leave you when the time came.

At the age of four and five, the siblings blamed this array of nannies solely on their father. They were under the impression that every nanny who had left had left because they had been fired. This wasn't entirely true. They hadn't realised, that although a number had been fired, there was also a vast number whom had quit themselves – of their own free will.

Many a nanny took on the job of caring for the Fourth Kazekage's children with the vision of being the first, the one who would finally be able to do it, the one who could manage to tame the two mischievous children. None had succeeded. The brother and sister duo were experts in driving their carers mad. They refused to listen, did everything they were told not to. For they knew that if they did so for long enough they would be sent off to their father – a rare sighting that they had come to think of as a novelty.

And like clockwork they did. When they were eventually kicked off to their infuriated father, their tails between their legs, (it took far longer for some nannies than others), they adorned the sweetest faces they possibly could and just relished in the contact. It took few of these situations for the nanny to either be fired, as the Kazekage had deemed them incapable of being able to control the two, or for the aforementioned nanny to hightail it out of there themselves – having come to the conclusion that no one, not even supernanny, would be able to make a conformed pair out of the children.

From a very young age the eldest two of the Fourth Kazekage's children learnt the art of twisting others to do what they wanted. They could play a situation and know exactly what would happen.

Even before he entered into school Kankuro was learning to pull the strings of things bigger and better than his toy puppets, he was learning to control people.

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_As Kankuro grew older he learned his father wasn't worth the effort. But he continued to get in trouble on purpose, only now it was because of the satisfaction it brought every time he saw his father become enraged.__

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_

It didn't take Kankuro and Temari long to realise the power they had over making a nanny quit. Their intentions changed from being badly behaved in order to see their father, to doing it just because they could. The apparent routine of misconduct they had set in place didn't just limit itself to their nannies either. Soon after Kankuro's sixth birthday the nannies began to be completely replaced by home school tutors, a minor difference in title that Temari and Kankuro didn't care much for. To Kankuro, it just meant there was someone else for him to make quit. The game was still just as fun and exciting.

He was sitting in the old-nursery-turned-schoolroom with his sister planning his next tactic for disposing of the unwanted teachers when their father stormed in, hands on hips and frown set firmly on his facial features. Kankuro smiled, it always brought a smile to his face when he saw his father as mad as he was now.

"Father," Temari said in acknowledgement.

"Isn't this exciting? A visit, and in school hours!" Kankuro cried, mocking excitement. The Kazekage's eyes narrowed.

"Just for that, you can have double the kunai training tonight." He said.

"But you've already given me two hours extra of puppet training to do." Kankuro complained.

"Misbehaviour doesn't come without its punishment." He responded pointedly. "Now, I have a busy schedule so I am going to make my point clear now." Kankuro restrained himself from making a snide comment, going so far as to forcibly bite down on his tongue to stop any words from slipping out. He knew that if he didn't, he might end up with triple the training for the entire next two weeks. "I received a piece of disgruntling news not that long ago. And I must say, I am growing quite tired of its form. If the two of you make even one more tutor quit, I'll send you to a regular school." The Fourth Kazekage said threateningly to his two children. He was not impressed when he was informed that their tutor had decided to quit. That was the third tutor who had resigned that month. Kankuro and Temari's games were beginning to go a little too far.

Kankuro shrugged, he'd never really cared that much for his father's threats; he was indifferent to them. "Whatever."

"This is your last warning." With that said, he turned and walked out the room, as quickly as he'd come.

It didn't take long for another tutor to be hired, and it took even less time for the tutor to call it quits. True to his word, the Kazekage sent his two children straight off to a regular school. Its punishment seemed to be lost on Temari, for she actually enjoyed it. She did all her work, made the top of her class, and made some friends in the process. Kankuro on the other hand seemed to think of it as an extension of his sleep and free time. He didn't entirely see the point of it. He was training to be a shinobi, not an academic. All his ninja training he did outside of school, with other qualified shinobi, when other kids would be having their free time. So he decided that he'd just do it the other way around.

Despite the fact he found it useless, that didn't mean he wasn't going to do any of the work. He knew that if he skipped out on all of it he'd have to repeat and that meant even longer in the hole. So he made sure to put enough effort in to just scrape by with a pass. Anything extra, he considered to be a waste of time and effort.

If going to real school taught him one thing, it was that he was _definitely_ going to be a shinobi.

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**A/N: Next chapter will hopefully be up soon. Let me know what you thought!**

**God Bless**

**ARC**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Thanks to all those who reviewed, faved, alerted, or even just read the last chapter. Here's the second one :) Hope you enjoy!

**DISCLAIMER: **I still don't own any of the characters... but I'm working on it.**  
**

**I know that I'm a prisoner to all my father held so dear  
I know that I'm a hostage to all his hopes and fears**

**

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**_Despite how much Kankuro utterly detested his father it killed him to know how largely he did control his life and who he became._

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To Kankuro his father would always just be that man who ran the village, that man who came back to their home every night, that man who overlooked his training. He didn't recall ever having called the Kazekage his 'dad' in specific terms, and he'd never really considered him to be a 'dad' in all meanings of the word. To him, the word 'dad' meant a show of affection. It was a man who supported their children and wanted the best for them, and in all affects, it was the opposite of what he considered his father to be.

His father was tough and unsympathetic – he didn't care for the little things in his children's lives. What he did care about was their future and imminent successes as a shinobi. Failure was not an option, it wasn't even a possibility. In fact, it was just so ridiculous that it didn't even deserve a thought. Temari and Kankuro were to be, in all aspects of the word, the best. They were the Fourth Kazekage's children, and more importantly, they were his. How well they succeeded was inevitably going to be a reflection on himself, and his own power and teaching ability. A fundamental part of Suna's culture was that the ability of the child reflects upon the parents training, as that was how ninja skills were passed on.

If he was made to sum the entirety of Sunagakure's ways up into one rule Kankuro would define it as; what you know determines what you become. If your father is a shinobi, you will become a shinobi. If your father is a tradesman, you will become a tradesman. If your father is a baker, you will become a baker.

There seemed to be no social regulation within Suna except for this one norm. They didn't have a ninja academy to train the children like some other villages. The force of their nation simply relied on their current shinobi's ability to teach and train their own offspring; the next generation.

Most children would be ecstatic to have the Kazekage as their father, they'd simply think that because of their parentage they'd automatically become strong. But Kankuro knew better. There was no way he was going to become strong without the extensive training he had to undertake. After all, it was the only reason he had to train limitless hours each day, trying to perfect his jutsu which he had limited knowledge of for there was hardly a soul in Suna who could teach it to him.

Ever since Sasori betrayed and abandoned the village the puppet jutsu had taken on a bad reputation. What used to be one of the village's most unique and predominant fighting techniques was sparking little interest in new shinobi. The greatest puppet master within the village, Chiyo-sama, had done little to eradicate this apathy as she wasn't exactly popular among the children. Most of the youngsters, when they thought of the puppet jutsu, associated it with an aging old recluse who had little concern for the happenings of the village.

Kankuro, by his father's instruction, had been raised with the belief that he was to become a puppet master. His intention was to try and resurrect the technique that had long fallen in the dust. In terms of military power the village hidden in the sand was decreasing greatly. And if their power was decreasing, the requests they received were also decreasing. It was only natural to take all forms necessary to try and bring back the clout that was once associated with Sunagakure.

His most dependable tactic in bringing back the requests stood in his two eldest children. He had once held faith in his youngest son, but having recently come to the realisation this was too dangerous, he quickly redirected his hopes.

**

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**_His father wanted him to be a puppet master; Kankuro started learning the puppet jutsu. He wanted him to go into politics; Kankuro had to start reading books on the village's history._

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Kankuro was out in one of the Kazekage mansion's many courtyards practicing with his favourite puppet, Tokage. It was merely a wooden toy that had been picked up from the local toy store, something that Kankuro hated. No matter how many times he asked, pleaded and outright demanded he have a proper weaponry puppet his father had flatly refused. The nine-year-old boy, who often liked to point out that he was _nearly_ ten, thought it was time he was able to expand his skills. This was something that he believed could only be done if he had a puppet for fighting. All he was able to practice with the puppets he currently possessed was the basic jutsu, nothing offensive or defensive; no fighting technique. He was only able to improve his ability to use chakra strings.

Kankuro's training was interrupted by his father's gruff voice behind him. He turned around at the sound of his name being called to find something unexpected. On his back his father was holding a large object concealed in a bag.

"I have a present for you." The Kazekage informed.

Kankuro frowned in confusion. Not because he couldn't comprehend what his father meant, but because present giving wasn't something often practiced in their family. He could hardly recall the last time someone had given him a present. It must have been over three years ago when Temari had decided she didn't want half of her dolls anymore. She had given one of the more tattered toys to him and informed him she didn't want it back and he could do whatever he liked with it, in other words use it as a puppet. Though Kankuro wasn't entirely sure whether that could even be considered a present as it wasn't a gracious act of giving, it was her getting rid of something she didn't want.

"Why?" Kankuro asked dubiously, carefully eyeing the big bundle hoisted over his father's back.

"To congratulate you on your hard work." He replied, placing the object on the ground with a thud.

"What is it?" Kankuro demanded.

"Look." There was no smile on his father's features to indicate he was enjoying the situation. His face was as stern as it always was, Kankuro noted. From it Kankuro was unable to decipher even the slightest hint of what might be inside of the bag.

Kankuro took the bundle when it was pushed towards him. The unexpected weight of the object caught him off guard and he was nearly sent toppling to the ground. However, he managed to balance himself at the last second and began opening the ties on the canvas. He gasped when he saw its contents.

"Is this...?"

"You're new puppet. Karasu." He informed, looking down at his son.

Kankuro looked up at his father, a firm frown now gracing his face. Sure he had been bugging the Kazekage for a puppet he could actually fight with for close to a year now, but part of the boy's pride resulted in him not complying easily when someone gave him something and promptly expected he use it. There was nothing he hated more than being told what to do. "But what if I don't want it?"

"You want to be a puppet master don't you?" The man asked, challenging his son to defy him and say no.

"Yes." Kankuro answered back subduedly. It had never really been _his_ decision. He'd just been trained for it. Though he did think it was a pretty darn cool technique to be learning – no one else his age could do it. Not that he cared for their thoughts and opinions anyway. They were all scared of him. Firstly because he could easily beat them, and secondly because he was the monster's brother.

"Then you'll take it. You're too young to make your own." The Kazekage replied with the finality that he always seemed to hold when he deemed it the end of a situation. Kankuro scowled at his father's retreating form until he'd entered back into the building. Then he looked at the puppet in his arms, a goofy grin spread across half his face.

"Karasu..."

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**A/N: Karasu = Crow. Kankuro's first puppet made by Sasori. Tokage means lizard.  
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**This story is going to be in six parts so hopefully you stick with me through it all! One third down!**

**God Bless**

**ARC**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **I know I haven't updated in months. But bear with me, and hopefully I can get the next three chapters up soon. Also I'd like to apologise to all who have posted reviews. I've been pretty terrible lately at replying but don't let that make you think I don't appreciate your comments. We'll here's chapter 3, I hope you like it.

**Crumpled bits of paper filled with imperfect thoughts  
Stilted conversations, I'm afraid that's all we've got**

_

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If there was one thing that Kankuro could wake up to the day knowing would happen between him and his father, it was the disagreements. _

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Kankuro didn't have a problem with being given missions, what sensible shinobi did? Doing missions gave you money, and thus, an income on which to live. He had even less of a reason to complain considering the fact none of the missions he'd ever received had been considerably without point; he'd never had to do a D rank mission in his life. The one thing he did have a problem with in regards to missions was the one who gave them to him, and promptly demanded he completed it; his father.

Kankuro looked back over the piece of paper in his hand, a glower forming on his face.

"Do you just assume we'll do all of your dirty work?" He demanded coldly, "Because we won't."

"Kankuro, this is a mission, not a piece of 'dirty work'." The fourth Kazekage responded callously, "This is the squad that you will be working on, and this is the squad that you will be taking to the chuunin exams when the time comes."

"This isn't a mission." Kankuro stated, waving the piece of paper that had the names of his teammates written on it in his father's face; Temari and Gaara."This is just some stupid way of you trying to kill off your little 'demon' while getting rid of your other two children in the process. You don't give a hoot what happens to any of us."

"That is not true." The Kazekage admonished, "This is a mission just like any other. You will—"

"Like any other?" Kankuro repeated in astonishment, "I can already see how this is going to work. Temari and I are going to be sent on missions far beyond our capacity simply because you want to be rid of _Gaara_. We're expendable to you."

"Kankuro, do not—" His father started to say, his tone harshening.

"Do you think Gaara cares that we are his brother and sister?" Kankuro demanded, interrupting the man again. "Do you think that because we're related he's less likely to kill us? 'Cause if that's the case then I don't know where you have been for the last four years. He hates us, as much as he hates you."

"How dare you interrupt your superiors while they are speaking." The Kazekage scolded severely. "Now, I do not want to hear another objection from you on this matter again. You do this without complaint otherwise I'll give you D rank missions for the rest of the year. Maybe you consider them, to be within your scope." He said pointedly.

"Fine," Kankuro said indignantly, "give me D rank missions. But we both know you won't be able to find someone who can replace me. This village is damned as it is – with little to no firepower."

"I didn't raise you to talk back to your authorities." His father rebuked. Kankuro scoffed. He scrunched the piece of paper up in his hand, dropping the crumbled report to the floor. He turned his back on the Kazekage, walking in the direction of the doorway. He paused for a moment, with his hand on the handle.

"You didn't raise me at all." The young puppeteer muttered distastefully before slamming the door behind him.

_

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But regardless of how little they agreed on, he always ended up doing what he was told... in the end.

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Kankuro strolled lazily to the Sand village's outer wall where his sister was waiting impatiently. He still couldn't begin to understand why Temari always insisted on being on time for their missions. They were a three-man squad after all, and weren't able to leave until all _three_ members were present. Kankuro was sure that the third member of their squad had only ever arrived on time for a departure once in their entire history of undertaking missions together, why did she assume today would be any different?

"Kankuro!" Temari cried in profound irritation as she saw her eldest younger brother approaching her leisurely, his hands in his pockets, and Karasu resting comfortably on his back. "Why do you always show up late for our missions?"

"We can't leave until that bloodsucker decides to show up anyway." Kankuro muttered sinisterly, leaning up against the sandy wall.

"Kankuro!" Temari scolded quietly, her eyes darting around her nervously, checking for _his_ undetected presence that might have been lingering in the shadows. "Don't talk about him like that. Heaven knows what he'll do if he hears you."

Kankuro scoffed. "He's not going to hear me. He's probably too busy out terrorising the villagers."

"You could try to be a little more careful around him, you know." Temari said reprovingly. Kankuro merely grunted in response.

The sun rose as the two siblings waited. The hours ticked by tirelessly as the heat heightened and sun rays bore down on them mercilessly. They stood in near silence as they awaited the arrival of their younger brother. Kankuro began to consider the possibility of forcing the boy to purchase a watch, but even then he doubted the likelihood that Gaara would use its services.

The sun was nearly in the centre of the sky when Kankuro's composure wore thin. "Where is that brat!" He cried finally in frustration, slamming his clenched fist against the wall. The surface cracked and some shards fell to the ground. "At this rate we're going to fail the mission before we even start it."

"I'm sure he'll come." Temari said as reassurance, to herself as well as Kankuro. She bit down on her lower lip in anticipation.

It was another half hour before they saw a blurred mixture of browns and black in the distance. Kankuro scowled. Gaara walked at such a pace that one would think he had nowhere to be in the world. "Nice of you to turn up," he muttered once Gaara was in earshot.

"I don't need your company." Gaara said apathetically.

"Well like it or not, we're a squad." Kankuro reminded him.

"Get in my way and I'll kill you." Gaara threatened.

"Gaara..." Temari murmured, her voice strained with pain.

As they began to walk out the village walls Kankuro wondered what it was he had ever done to be put on this team. "I was born." He muttered aloud in answer to his unspoken question.

Being born into the Fourth Kazekage's family, Kankuro thought to himself, an unfortunate event of fate, but a happening none the same – one that he wasn't able to escape from no matter how much he wished it.

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**God Bless**

**ARC**


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